Patience
by Arakan
Summary: Would you to rush things or be patience? Andy certainly knew which she preferred especially in a relationship.
1. Chapter 1

**Patience**

**By Arakan.**

**Warning: ** Unbeta-Ed because my beta I got still working with the previous story I wrote, the 'Question Series.' However, this idea plagued my mind so I decided to write it and find any positive feedback. Should I continue it or not?

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**Chapter 01. Eyes.**

Another day for Andy to coming back home hardly bearing enough energy to haul herself into the dark apartment. Closing and locking the front-door she kicked off her shoes getting inside her apartment. Andy comes close to a table to drop the key followed along her bag and wallet.

Peeling her clothes Andy trudged her path into the bathroom, turning on the light she shut down her eyes halfway to let her eyes adapting to the bright light intruding on her site. Not bothering to closing the door of the bathroom Andy get into the shower, the water that called for a time before grew warm did not hinder her to stay away. Rather, she persisted under the shower letting the cold water that slowly became warmer to wash off the make-up she put on for the day, hoping the shower enough to undo the tight muscles.

Opening a bottle of beer Andy reached out for the table-lamp flipping it on and placed the beer aside as she open her laptop altho expecting for the laptop to get the boot-up she seated on the chair in front of the desk, it Is not that spacious but it's crammed with piles of papers that mostly accommodating researches for her job as a cub-reporter on the Mirror. Connecting to the internet she checked the Inbox of her e-mails smiling to discover afresh e-mail from Nigel, even Andy didn't work for Runway for the last seven months both still be a good-friend to one another. From time to time they'd eat out, which mostly, Nigel was the one who paid the bills. But if they got lunch together, Andy was the one who invited the foods and drinks, obviously if they went to places that fit her wallet.

Opening the email, Andy's eyebrows climbed up finding out Nigel exclusively composed one and only question:

_"'Tell me the first body-part you like from your former-boss?'"_

"Really Nigel," Andy laughed quietly, that's another thing she learned about Nigel that she only knows it once she leaves Runway. Nigel got a bad habit when it was a slow day in Runway or sometimes when he needs an idea, he would suddenly send an email or even a short-message asking things that would stun Andy to no end of how bizarre such question being directed to her. But sometimes too, such questions fired to her email or phone mostly when Nigel got a bad day in Runway.

Until now Nigel limited his strange queries for her childhood; reciprocally he wrote a long email about his own childhood. What kind foods Andy like followed by the reason she likes it? It's same with another question, such drinks, places she wished to go. Andy learns there was a pattern that Nigel avoiding to question her that related to the fashions. Not that Andy mind even she developed a style of her own, what types of clothing or shoes she prefers, but comparisons to Nigel Andy humbly admit to herself that she still nowhere close to him.

The longer they become friends, the more audacious Nigel's bizarre questions, just two months ago when he suddenly out of the blue texted her to ask, _'would you prefer a hot gorgeous blonde better than a dark-haired macho chap?'_

Andy received lots of strange stares from her fellow-reporters as she sputters after reading such message inside the bullpen of the Mirror. She had suffered embarrassing blush for the next hour as Andy stares down to her mobile-phone unable to formulate a reply, so much that Greg, the Mirror's Editor-in-Chief needs to shout her name next to her ear to get her attention. Andy avoids Nigel's emails, texts and calls like a plague for the next four days before she gathered her courage and text Nigel her belated reply with a simple and short _"'Yes.'"_

There were no texts, calls or emails from Nigel yet in return he suddenly appeared outside of the Mirror picking up Andy using a cab and brings her to a fancy-nightclub where he congratulated Andy with the first round of drinks over 'to find her true-self,' second round of drinks 'for her to get so brave and admit it to him,' and the rest of the rounds was a mix between Nigel congratulating himself that his 'Gay-Dar' still sharp as ever or how he began pointing to the women population inside the nightclub trying to find her preference. From there, he really didn't hold back, continued sending messages and emails trying to get to know the type of female Andy actually wants, regrettable, Andy just recently aware her real preference after for the better part of her life Andy was convince she only like men. With such situation how could she know what kind of woman she wants?

And now, Andy checked the calendar arching her eyebrow higher to find today is the second week of the month, using her memory over Runway hectic-agenda she scratch her head, confuse why Nigel suddenly asking one of his bizarre questions to her. "A lazy day hit him on the head too hard perhaps?" Shaking her head over a strange speculation she could come up with, Andy stared down to the screen her fingertips hovering above the keyboard before begin typing her reply.

_The first body-part Miranda has that caught my attention the first time I met her is her eyes. Those blue orbs are as clear as blue sky and yet could be so colder than the wintry - wind. Someone's eyes unquestionably are a window to someone's soul and Miranda's eyes linked to the emotions she felt at the time. The glares she gave to us were and always are, scary. Yet I cannot stop wishing for Miranda to look at me with those significant orbs not with those glares and calculating look. Even just for once._

Rereading her reply, satisfied she didn't write a strange reply to Nigel's already strange question, Andy clicked the 'Send' button and spends an hour to browse on the web before deciding to get some sleep. Her new job as a reporter is something she wishes to have, but the payment? Not that much. Luckily her career turned for the better lately but that means she cannot afford to slack off.

Turning off the laptop followed of the desk-lamp Andy padded through the darkness into the bedroom, climbing up the bed she lay down still thinking of Nigel's peculiar question before simply chalking up over too much stress. Closing her eyes she nods off dreaming a pair of blue eyes that mostly terrified her so much and yet make she longed to make those eyes looking only to her.

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(Runway)

Miranda Priestly as was common marching into her office exactly at eight in the morning, today her mood exceptionally so close to the low-level of the barometer. Yesterday Caroline got into a fight with another student in Dalton because he tried to bully Cassidy the gentler and the shyer of the two. The teachers that tried to talk to Miranda cannot speak to her by the second-assistant idiocy reasoning she was in a meeting and cannot be disturbed. The woman is gone from Runway and many suspected from the entire East Coast not sixty-seconds after she casually mentioned there was a call from Dalton about her daughters. Because her foolish deed, the Dalton's teacher called her ex-husband bringing up the sore topic of the custody-battle resurfacing again. To top it all, there was a call from her lawyer telling her that Stephen wants more moneys far above the agreement before marriage both of them had signed. Needless to say, the Dragon Lady now is breathing fire everywhere a staff of Beauty Department and another from Printing Department already got fired before the clock showed she's inside the building more than 15 minutes.

Oddly for the rest of the Runway, Nigel entered the Editor's office poised as ever in his designer-attires, dropping a folder Miranda wants on top of her desk and locked his eyes to hers. "Yes?" Miranda drawled; temper ready to flare once again.

"I always thought your eyes one of your weapons to scare most souls in this world, Miranda." Nigel moved his left palm to prop up his right elbow and put his chin between his right thumb and crocked index-finger. "However, your eyes are one of the most bewitching parts and I suffice to need to agree with the source. It's definitely one of your enamoring persona." He cracked a diminutive smirk on the abrupt blank look his long-time friend got. "Good morning, Miranda. Have a nice day." With that he turned on his heels discreetly smirking leaving a speechless Miranda starring to his retreating back.

Producing his phone Nigel typed a text, _'meet me at the usual place tonight, drinks on me, I am in the mood for celebration'_ scrolling down his phonebook he sends the message to 'A. S.' shooting a fleeting look over his right shoulder Nigel catch the Editor still looked speechless, ignoring Emily's questioning-glare Nigel exited the outer-office, mumbling, "one battle down and many to go" complete with a pump of his right fist.

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Hi there readers got another idea popping inside my head and plagued my mind for some time now, so yeah, enjoy the story and please review.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 002. Lips.**

Andy couldn't understand for the life of her, how she got a sudden mysterious difficulty to concentrate. Although she does have someone to blame and honestly, she knew the cause of this sudden mystery. Nonchalantly, Andy looks around the bullpen of the Mirror, checking out the fellow-reporters busy working with their own stories. Fortunately for Andy, her table in on the corner of the bullpen. Leaning back into her chair she moved the mouse clicking it a couple of times to bring up the close-up of a picture of a woman's lower-face. With the lens zoom-in on a pair of lips sent by her ever-chivalrous friend, Nigel Kipling.

Her cheeks warming, she recognized the owner of those red-hot lips. Andy was spending the better part of seven months in her former job staring at those lips. Why on earth she keep going staring on those lips still a mystery for Andy. But the doe-eyed sweetheart recognized to whom that specific body part belonged. And, like the time she still worked in Runway, Andy feels her body getting warm. Her heartbeat picking up a speed, her palms are sweating. And, she didn't need to produce the ultimate-item all women have in their purse, a pocket mirror to see her cheeks are burning.

This pair of lips, are the same lips haunting her in countless dreams. The same pair of lips that give nothing but scathing remarks and cutting insults. But oh! Those lips! Quickly Andy reached for the cup of coffee she bought this morning before she went to the Mirror. She pressed it up against her lips to muffle. Much to her horrified. A moan is threatening to escape. Andy forced herself to swallow a mouthful of a cold coffee. If in the first place she intended she could calm her nerves, rather than calming down, her nerves now are all over the place. Miranda hates her coffee so cold like the one she drank.

After she put away the coffee cup, Andy rubbed her face tiredly. What is the meaning for Nigel sending this picture to her? Reading the message of the email, Andy finds his usual mysterious question. But today is so puzzling Andy was speechless.

"'You thought about her eyes in the yesterday email. What did you think about her lips?'"

Stunned, is an underestimated word of the century to portray what Andy felt. Again, Andy looks around, casually and avoiding any eyes that by chance looking in her direction. Her guts told her she was coming close to a dangerous territory.

'But Nigel won't tell Miranda. Will he?'

She assured herself Nigel won't dare to bring up the issue of his eccentricity. How Andy simply cannot get away from his sudden oddity asking this question to her without risking the Dragon to roar in fury. She shifted a bit in her seat and begin typing her reply.

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Meanwhile in Runway...

... Miranda Priestly was confused by her long-suffering-friend, Nigel. This week, twice already he made a pass to her of words more suitable for people who want to get her attention in an intimate way. Yet, the last time she checked (and still is), Miranda aware Nigel swings in different ways and a proud one at that. Oh she noticed most of the staff in the Runway has a deep crush on her, safely lie dormant under layers of fears and frightened by her. Then, what's with Nigel and his sudden fondness to send word Miranda suspected doesn't invent by him. Now. That is indeed a mystery.

With each pass, Nigel is always bringing up his 'source.' A source whom evidently romantic enough to produce loving phrases. The Editor swiveled her chair to gaze out of the windows behind her, away from the prying eyes of her staffs, outside the office. Truthfully to hide the sudden heat blooming on her cheeks. Twice divorced and dozens of failing relationships, but none of Miranda's suitors, women included, ever uttering these romantic phrases to her.

Oh they do, they do it many times, but all to make her be controlled by this mysterious person, using a medium of the Art Director, still able to show the genuine affection. Miranda's eyes giving a fleeting look to check the outer-office. Satisfied Emily is busy with her task and the 'new Emily' isn't in sight. Miranda slipped her left palm inside the blazer pocket producing out a folded note Nigel discreetly slipped it into her palm on his way out after a run-through. Miranda read the note for the second time.

"'Lips are a half-part of the greatest gift from heaven for us, the other half are voices. All for us to communicate, to express about what we think and what we felt inside our hearts. Those lips have been used to hurt. I wonder though, what loving words she has used to her children and perhaps, her lovers? Would she speak in that quiet way she often did? Or, would she whisper? I cannot help, but wanting to hear it, for those lips and with her alluring voice uttering my name to my ear.'"

Miranda's head drop low as a blistering red color adorning her cheeks, the silver-flocks works like a veil hiding how even the tip of her ears has turned red.

Unbeknown to Miranda, certain Art Director is casually come into the Outer-Office to hand a folder to Emily. Nigel makes sure he 'forgot' to give it to her this morning. Faking a disinterest looks Nigel looked down to his wristwatch and eyes giving a fleeting look into the Editor's office. Take no notice of Emily eying him strangely Nigel shifted his body and angling his head to catch a glimpse of the Editor that facing the windows. He developed a skill to check on his friend especially when she is in current condition. By focusing his eyes to the reflection on the window, he checks on his friend without endangering his life. This is a trick he created years ago.

To befriend Miranda Priestly for the last twenty years Nigel still perplexed about how to predict Miranda's reaction. But once that icy-persona cracking with a skill Nigel has been developing for years he could tell Miranda's emotion. Just like now, he knew his friend was embarrassed and fighting to win back her composure.

Keeping a straight face Nigel completely ignored Emily that shooting suspicious look to his back. In a rather magical way as Nigel all of a sudden has his phone in his right hand, he typed a message.

"'Make certain to empty your schedule this evening, get beers and I will come to your place with Pizza. I'm really in a good mood.'"

He scrolls down the phone book and he sends the text to 'A.S.' with a smug smirk he pocketed his phone on his chest-pocket and patted it several times. "Two down and still too many to go."

(-***-)

As usual, please leave a review. And no, this chapter still not betaed. I just got this story in my head and want to write it down before I forgot. And oh, please tell me if you my readers, found mistake words.

Best regards,

Arakan.


	3. Chapter 3

**_Patience 003. There is always a price._**

**Author Notes & Warning: No Beta, raw version, as apparently I has no luck to find a beta. So please if you like, review. If you didn't like, just leave me and my story.  
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**(Runway: Art Director's Office)**

With a grin that will make every jury to say he is guilty on the spot, one bespectacled – man Nigel Kipling busied going through with his plan. He can't understand how complicated a woman's world could be. He will be a blind man not to see the strong interaction between his friends, Miranda Priestly who too is his boss and Andréa **'Andy'** Sachs.

The respect Andy had for Miranda when she works in the Runway morphed into a crush that leave the poor doe-eyed beauty spending days and nights blushing thinking Nigel won't notice it. But back then she still was with Nate. At this thought Nigel rolled his eyes mockingly. **_'Oh please! A Cook wannabe against THE Miranda Priestly?'_** Head shaking over the ridiculous comparison with his fingers continued flying on top of the keyboard of his laptop. And Miranda? Seriously? Oh the Lady of the Dragon is a Queen is feared and respected by him. But twenty years of knowing her, befriending her as best he could without getting burned into a dangerous level, Nigel has two eyes and helped with his spectacles to notice that lingering look Miranda shoot in every fleeting moment toward her ex-second-assistant!

Several times Nigel have to look away and loosen his collar, fanning his face included, of the intensity of Miranda's eyes lingering on several body parts that all belonged to one person in the name of Andy Sachs. And YET! None of them noticed they want each other! Unacceptable! Irritating and annoying him to no end! If he must be a Cupid, he will do it!

Two intelligent women even from different generations, ranks and status in society, but Nigel is hell bend they are complimenting each other. If there is someone who will survive Miranda's wrath, that will be a certain cub-reporter that was running around somewhere in the middle of Manhattan chasing news with vigor. If there is someone who could melt the snowstorm blazing tundra inside Miranda's chest into a warm fuzzy feeling, that will be Andy Sachs.

In Miranda's case… HM, well, he will not go there yet. Knowing that Lady of the Dragon, she will deny everything until the other party makes the first move. Letting her to see it is alright to tread into the water, with the one who seek her attention, holding her hands romancing her in a way that not extravagant but hold the meaning of genuine fondness. **_'Seriously, Miranda could act so regal and brusque but beneath she is nothing but a shy maiden.'_** At this sudden conclusion Nigel stopped typing all together, staring down blankly to his laptop screen, little by little, his lips forming a grin that makes all evil nodding their heads in approval. "… A shy maiden… my goodness," he rubbed his chin letting loose a wick snigger, "why I never thought about it?"

That does help him to understand how Miranda acts in her world of romance. If his guess is correct then it really blissful knowledge to know his younger friend, Andy isn't that shy. She told him over pizza, marathon movies, and five glasses of wines that she enjoys sex, she isn't that shy when it comes to sex, unfortunately her previous partner the Cook, never gives care for her sans for his own satisfaction. **_'Yet,'_** more wicked plans forming in his head, **_'their skulls are surely thicker than this entire building, and if I dare to approach Miranda first she will shut down tighter than Fort Knox,'_** glancing down and to the Flash-disc on the left side of his table, he casually reaches for it, picked it up and bring the device up and stop not an inch away from his nose. "Well Six, I am sorry, but I will pick up the ante," inserting the Flash disk into the USB of his laptop, "you are the younger of the two, I have faith in your hormones and emotion." Moving the Mouse to open the folder inside the Flash disk the lenses of his spectacles turned bright-white reflecting endless images inside the special folder of pictures he has carefully selected for this new hobby of his, becoming a Cupid. "And I just know what you need…"

Several hallways from his office Miranda suddenly went rigid as a sudden dreading feeling running down her back. The Editor scanned the Outer-Office over the rim of her Cartier reading eyeglasses, the New Emily and the real Emily all seated behind their desks doing their usual routines. Clackers would pass by once in a while. **_'Nothing wrong here,'_** Miranda thought but then the New Emily picked up a call, nodding her head a few times before placing down the phone while Miranda as usual do a quick mental scan of her shortlist of types of impending catastrophe.

**_'No signs of new enemies I need to squash, Check!'_**

The new Emily stood in front of the open door, fidgeting slightly on her boss's serious expression. "Uhm, Miranda."

**_'No signs of new threats I need to prepare and counterattack hounding the corners, Check!'_**

The new Emily fidget yet again, "There is a call-"

**_'No signs of disasters over the next issue dancing their ways from the edge of the horizon, Check!'_**

"-From Mr. Ravitz-"

**_'No signs of- wait, what?'_**

"-And he insist for you to pick up his call," finished the new Emily, who flinch as Miranda's lips pursed in displeasure, **_'note and memo to myself, add a new mental list of a bug in that shortlist'_** rolling her eyes, "send his call here," she said uncaringly, "get me my coffee, and move the run-through in 15 minutes. That's all." She glared down to the desk-phone positively convince that dreading jolt running down her back a few moments ago must be because the Irv Ravitz decided to disturb her day is a new way to spend his time till lunchtime.

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Meanwhile across the city Andy was gathering her items, she has just finished her interview that would help her writing her next article when her Blackberry buzzing, thanking the stay-at-home wife she has just interviewed Andy reached for her jacket pocket jogging down the stairs to get out of the apartment-building.

Exiting the building she checked the new email in the Inbox, not looking a man who just want to enter the building she bumped her left shoulder to him distracting her. "Sorry." She apologized to the man who only mumbling under his breath, shrugging her shoulders Andy looked down to her Blackberry and her mind immediately went blank.

The new email contained three pictures that have an image of a neck that was arching up as if the person thrown back their head, the second picture is a smooth exposed back while the last but not the least is an ass-clad in Bill-Bass pants.

Three different events are instantly swirling behind Andy's eyes.

Miranda is striding into the Office in a pair of tight black pants perfectly outlining her ass and made Andy can't lift up her eyes from that very back. Miranda was tossing her head back laughing a fake laughter in some gala. Miranda stood for hours in front of Andy inside a different gala generously giving her the view of her smooth back.

_'Miranda.'_ So deep in her own world Andy didn't see where she is going, she didn't even register the screams and yells of warning. She does look up, rotating her head to the left on the incoming motorbike but even then she thought nothing, feel no fear or pain, even her world spinning, she only has one image permanently etched in her mind. _'Miranda. I miss you.'_

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**(Runway: Twenty Minutes Later)**

If the staffs noticing Nigel continued rubbing his chin, glancing to his phone once in a while, and barely having his focus to the run-through they didn't make a comment, but later some of them will ask him. They just glad their boss didn't notice his lack of focus.

Now speaking about their boss, Miranda too continued looking down to her notebook with a hint of apprehensive look mar her usual perfect emotionless expression and she kept rolling the expensive Mount-Blanc Pen between her right thumb and curled index-finger. She clearly has no focus to this meeting, but if this sight blatantly noticed by them, no soul dares even to make her know they noticed this oddity.

Nigel is waiting the usual reply that has lots of wisdom words he shamelessly using it to his boss, the lateness of his Six to give a reply is worrying him. It is not the reporter's nature to make him wait. _'But maybe I blew her mind?'_ That assured him enough for a smirk threatening to come out, in a way, he does blow someone's mind.

Miranda on the other hand puzzled by the aching sensation in her chest, as if something terrible happens or will happen to her or her precious girls. She had made a call to her girls merely to check are they fine, and they are. They just are having lunchtime on Dalton. She even called the maid, Rosetta to make sure Patricia is fine. The giant St. Bernard was barking happily into the phone as if wanting to tell her, she is fine.

So what is the reason for her uneasiness that continued gnawing her chest for a few moments before Irv make a call? Did the man try to oust her again? But last time she checked he was still licking his wound after Paris. Then why-

The insisting knock on the glass door silenced the room and drew all eyes to look at one of the newest Staffs from the Art Department, with a quick jerk of Miranda's head he let himself enter the room, to everyone's surprise he didn't go to Miranda and instead he went to Nigel. The man leaned down whispering in Nigel's ears, the bespectacled-director's eyes grew wide. "NYPD?" He looked up to him forgetting where he was and asks, "Why on earth they are waiting me? In the lobby?"

"I don't know. But they said your sister got an accident," said the man who recently joining Runway. Failed to notice all bloods drained from Nigel's face he frowns, brows knitting, "I think… it was, Andy?" He jumped backward as Nigel shoots up to his feet, mouth parting open and closing before he squeak, "Andy? Six!? In an accident!?"

Andy. Andy Sachs. Andréa… Miranda was blankly starring to Nigel who asking in panic. "Why the NYPD down on the lobby then!? Is she alright!?"

"I honestly don't know," said the staff, "but I think it's serious, they were sent here from the hospital because your name is on her emergency-contact list and the hospital cannot reach you."

Nigel wants to bang his head on some solid surface. Of course they can't reach him! He forgot to change the setting of his phone that blocking any new numbers! Whipping around to grab his phone, "I'm sorry Miranda, but I need to check with officers down in the lobby," and with that Nigel rush out not waiting for any reply. _'Oh my god, oh my god, Six! Must be because the pictures!'_ Racing down the hallways and corridors Nigel was skidding to stop in front of the elevator. "Come on, come on!" He is repeatedly tapping the panel-button and near crying in joy when one of the elevator stops and opening for him.

Hurling himself into the elevator Nigel smashed the button to close the door but someone catches his eyes that grew wider than saucers, this time he frantically jabs his fingers on the button to open the door as Miranda Priestly thrust his coat to his arms and turned on her heels nodding her head sharply to him.

On the ride down Nigel put on his coat silently glancing to Miranda standing on his left side, fur-coat already wrapped around her, her purse hold tightly by her hands in front of her… maybe he isn't making such disaster. Wisely never asking why Miranda decided to go with him to meet the officers waiting in the lobby, who calm him that they are there merely to pick him to the hospital because his adopt-sister Andy Sachs isn't conscious at all and someone need to know over her situation.

"The Doctors still running tests when we got sent here, Mr. Kipling."

"Did you get the biker that hit her?" Nigel drilled them.

"No, unfortunately, it's a hit-and-run." They escorted him and Miranda out of the building, then later gestured for Nigel to join her in her car instead the patrol-car, sitting in the back seat with Roy drives the car to follow the patrol-car, Nigel again glances to Miranda who has her lips pursed. He has decided not to ask, but curiosity got the better of him. "Miranda, why you went with me?" He inquired hoping the Editor not too angry with him, this car even a luxurious Mercedes-Benz certainly didn't give enough space for him to avoid her wrath.

"I didn't write a recommendation for that silly girl to get run by a motorbike, Nigel." Miranda hissed through clenching teeth. She didn't say anything afterward only glaring out of the window yet the way she clutched her purse made Nigel look away, "indeed," he commented quietly and inside his head he adds, **_'well Six, at least you got her attention.'_**


	4. Chapter 4

**_Patience 004: Awkward Moment(s)_**

**_Author Notes:_** Thank you for my readers. Life as usual really hard and not surprisingly turns harder. But by writing it helped me to calm down, take several deep breaths and steady myself before getting hurled by endless problems. This chapter, I dedicated it to my readers, to they who bother to leave reviews or even decide to follow my stories. Thank you so much. Enjoy the chapter and please leave more reviews.

**_Warning:_** Nope, still no beta yet. Everyone has their own lives and I waited patiently until they who have shown interests to be my beta, have more times for themselves and eventually to give a proofread to my story.

All best, Arakan.

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Once Miranda's Mercedes – Benz arrived at the hospital, Nigel is out of the car and halfway rounding the other door for Miranda to climb out. If there is something Nigel learns from his years knowing the fashion-maven never rude. Offering his left elbow for Miranda to take, Nigel thanks the officers who easily waved it off and go back to their jobs leaving Nigel lead them into the hospital and moved to the nurse-desk. "Excuse me ladies, I am here for Andy Sachs?" greeting them he gained their attention, one of them clearly a senior among the young women around smile warmly. "Ah yes," she grabbed a clipboard look down and reading the papers, "Mr. Kipling?" she peered at him who nod.

"Yes." Nigel's eyes darted down to read the name tag, "Martha. I'm Nigel Kipling."

"Nice to meet you too, sir. Now, follow me," Martha gestured them to follow her walking down a busy corridor while informing Nigel and Miranda about Andy's wounds. "She was sent here after getting a hit-and-run down on the 67th. Bruises are expected but apparently she hit her head. She isn't waking up for long. Also, she dislocated her right shoulder." She stopped sympathizing how Nigel visibly winces while the woman she didn't know yet her name, pursed her lips thin.

"Will Six- I mean Andy, be alright?" Nigel asked considerably paling.

"She's still young and she evidently takes care of herself, she showed traces of a healthy body, perhaps joggings" Martha looked down to the clipboard, checking the papers and nodding her head a few times as Nigel affirms her suspicion. "Yes. Andy always spent twice a week to jog ten blocks at least."

"Mmm. That's good. She needs a sling though. Aside of a dislocated right shoulder, the accident fracture a small part of her bones, not too big but it will pained her time to time until she got healed. Doctor Stevens will give you a further explanation but unfortunately he already scheduled for a surgery. Maybe in the next three to four hours he will swing by." Martha looked up to Nigel, "she is sleeping from the painkillers and I need you to work with the procedure."

"Of course I will," replied Nigel looking for Miranda, his boss gives him nothing but a cold sharp look and he knew what that means. Andy will be wheeled to a better and expensive room as soon as he finished filling the hospital forms. If Martha sees the silent exchanged she wisely didn't make a comment and quickly leading Nigel where he could work with the forms leaving Miranda to sit next to Andy's bed.

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18 minutes later, Miranda took off her coat dropping it carelessly on top of a comfortable chair inside a VVIP Hospital-Suite, a far better room than the previous room where Andréa have been placed. Miranda was cringing and flinching whole the time she waited Nigel to finish with the hospital procedure.

She can't understand how the hospital management system puts a young woman like Andréa who unconscious by sleep-induced-cocaine inside a room for four beds, one bed occupied by a man who got broken nose and claws-marks on his face slurring out how he got the wounds from a bar fight. Clearly he didn't know who Miranda is. She is The Miranda Priestly who worked in the fashion world and even she has no degree for medic, she could recognize those claws-scars came from females' nails, not men. And another patient occupying the third bed was a macho super-muscular biker complete with the typical tattoos-covered-skins, whom leering over the sleeping Andréa whole the time and once Miranda sat rigidly on the stool next to her bed, even he didn't recognize who she is but clearly that man recognized the luxury life Miranda have.

The only saving grace the macho-biker was sent to the same room with Andréa because refusing to get a ticket and chased by the police-officers and got wounded in the end. So there is a police-officer seated on a stool next to his bed that bark angrily for him to shut-up which work to silence him, shot an apologetic look to Miranda that cast a freezing glare in return, he meekly busy himself filling his own report. But that is the last straw Miranda will accept.

She stood up, marched away from the room intend to be quick, she didn't believe Andréa's is safe in such room and someone in name of Miranda Priestly does able to quicken everything she wants, hospital procedure included, all by one cell in quiet yet deadly voice and a harsh sniff to one of members of the Hospital Board that only took less than thirty seconds.

Naturally she dropped the piles of papers to Nigel's arms to fill the blanks with the Queen of Fashion striding back into Andréa's room and not a minute later she came out after the hospital staffs wheeling Andréa's bed out of the room and into the elevator.

So now here she is, quietly taking a seat on much comfortable chair compare than the small stool inside previous room, watching the young reporter sleeping peacefully. Even with a bandaged head, right hand on a sling, several bruises and cuts marred her left jaw and chin Andréa Sachs still and always an attractive young woman who blooming beautifully.

"Silly girl." Unfolding her hands Miranda reached forward tentatively lifting Andy's left fingers, mindful not to touch the cuts and scratched skin and bring her left palm to cover the reporter's fingers. "… For a smart girl you could be so silly. Really Andréa, got run by a bike?" She glared to the sleeping reporter as if Andy will wake up and apologizing to her. "You think I didn't notice how many times you fell over those heels? And yet, you still choose this profession." She blew out a soft breath, head shaking. "Really Andréa, even Patricia learned to be a better dog day-by-day." She rolled her eyes snorting quietly on the comparison she used to make the sleeping Andy to see the point.

One, Patricia versus Andréa? A nearly two hundred pound giant fur-ball vs. 5'7 – 5'8 beautiful attractive woman with a smart head graduated from Northwestern?

Two, Andréa is sleeping, doped to the moon.

**_'You are so pathetic.'_** She sighed yet again; the Editor stares into Andy's sleeping face. She looks so peaceful but Miranda has no doubt once the medicine wears off, Andréa will be in pain. Miranda didn't know how react, really, despite her cold demeanor she is quite shy person. Only her girls who know that side of her and they cherish her shy nature, always giggling and having funs as their mother tried to put a stern façade to no avail. Her little pair of troublemakers really knows her too much, ironically, the person who comes closest to discover that side, that the real nature of Miranda Priestly is not her ex-husbands but her ex-second-assistant who now in a deep sleep.

**_'Because getting run by a bike.'_** Her mind added sarcastically winning another derisive snort from Miranda.

Trying to occupy her mind away from giving a hissing fit to Andréa that she knew will be a waste of time and breath, effort included, Miranda looked around and notice the pile of clothes and a bag placed haphazardly on the side of the table next to the bed. With an exaggerated eye-rolls Miranda gives a sharp sniff. "Young these days, have they never learn the meaning of 'neat?'" Scoffing she turned in her seat, Miranda recalled Caroline despite the one who has obvious talent to follow her footsteps to her dismay got her father's gene that always untidy. Fortunately for Miranda, Cassidy on the other hand is a neat-freak. She could spend hours in the night to organize her bedroom, just like Miranda, the youngest twin will not sleep until everything is in order.

Miranda knew one of the reasons that make her relationship with the twin's father already stiff before their abrupt brutal divorcement is how he can't keep everything neat and tidy even for a minute.

Jeremy came from a rather wealthy family, he is used having maids to clean and tidy things for him. And despite Miranda's career was skyrocketing and bring much more income to the family instead his job that even got a large payment from a family company belonged to him, he throws more moneys than bringing it into their small family. He always belief even Miranda has more demanding job and things she needs to work hard to secure her position, he keeps thinking as a woman she should be the one who tidy the house after he wrecked it. That's a woman's job, that is his mind firmly belief.

While Miranda, even come from not a wealthy family, have a hard youth and every luxury things in her life came from her hard work, never forgot all of those lessons she learned from her childhood day. Reaching forward Miranda begin to fold Andréa's clothes, even one look to the shirt and pants, with a harsh sniff, she tossed the two fabrics into the trash bin. The pants were torn and Andréa's bloods tainted and already dried on her shirt.

Even with some miracle skill from dry cleaners Miranda wouldn't allow Andréa to wear same clothes she got an accident. She only saved Andréa's jacket, even she stared on the few spots where dried bloods dirtying the brown jacket with critical eyes, she decided a good dry cleaner could make those stains gone. Folding the jacket neatly she put it aside and look down, annoyance now radiating from her, she will definitely make another call to the Hospital Board. There, laid on the floor is Andréa's bag where her laptop could be seen peeking out a bit.

She can't understand young these days. So easily throwing things and even she knew Andy's laptop is just for her job's purposes, but it still paid by a hard work moneys. Oh Miranda isn't stingy, au contrary, she isn't. But even to her girls she kept putting a stern control when it comes to moneys. One day they will inherit her wealth, but she will not allow them to be the all-common type of rich girls.

Reaching down Miranda carefully picked up the bag mindful not to drop the laptop, she could guess Andréa have gone to one of her interviews and knowing the young woman in seven months under her tenure always so organize, Miranda has no doubts most information she needs for her next article are inside her laptop. Try as she might, Miranda isn't a seer. Naturally she didn't know perhaps the officers or the hospital staffs, shoving the damaged phone into the bag, again in the same haphazard way without bothering to close the top of the bag. So when Miranda picked the bag and tipped it to the side to place it on top of a low table to secure such important device for her ex-assistant to make her living, the phone slid out and fall to the floor with several parts of the broken Blackberry flinging to the sides.

Miranda gives a jolt, left palm fly up to her chest covering her heart that's beating against her ribcage in surprise and eyes darted to Andy. The sleeping reporter didn't even flinch, still deep in her sleep. Releasing a relief sigh, Miranda's mind already scheming what kind of scathing comment and remark she will use it in the next phone-call to the Hospital Board as she stand up and squat down gathering the parts of the phone.

Returning to her seat Miranda look down to the broken phone, she is sure the phone probably broken already from the unfortunate accident, the owner got an hour ago. But to what extend is a question she can't answer. A bit timidly Miranda worked to put the parts trying to see did the phone still able to be used or not, even she already makes a mental note to call Emily to get a new phone for Andréa. Maybe the accident already broke the phone, but indirectly Miranda makes it more broken. Switching on the phone she stared at the screen that stubbornly still black, so she tried it again, nope, nadda, not even a flicker.

Shaking her head Miranda gives the third try this time the screen comes up, Miranda sigh in relief even the cover already cracking beyond repair, at least it's still alive… or so what she thought before it died again. Now, another thing we all should know about Miranda Priestly, she will never look away from a challenge. It's a bit silly side, but her girls only laughing and loves her for that. Miranda knew it was one of the sides she shared with her girls… and Andréa.

The doe-eyed beauty perhaps never aware of it, and perhaps when she still under Miranda's tenure she need to do her job or got fired, but just like Miranda, Andy never back down from any challenges Miranda fires with her. The Harry Potter's fiasco was one of many things Andy able to carry out.

So after making sure the door still closed, that she has sent Nigel to get back to Runway after seeing his Six will not awake perhaps till next morning, Miranda do everything she could to awake the stubborn Blackberry. From jabbing the switch button furiously till patting its back, something that even she knew it's really silly because she was imagining how she always pat her babies' backs to burp… and how bizarre the Blackberry decided to come alive from a firm pat on its back.

"Even your phone is as bizarre as you, Andréa." Miranda rolled her eyes, "why I didn't surprise when I should feel very surprise?" The Editor just wants to put the phone on the table when something caught her eyes, blinking, slowly she brings the phone to her eyes-level and no. She isn't wrong. There, under the cracks of the cover, it is her picture, head angled to the side smiling down fondly to her girls that seizing her elbows and beaming up bright identical smiles to her when she picked them in the train station.

Miranda blinks. Why was her picture on Andréa's phone? When the reporter had taken it? Alright, clearly she took it when Andy still under her tenure. But then why Andréa used it as a wallpaper of her phone? "… Bizarre indeed…" cupping her cheek Miranda stared to the reporter's sleeping face, now she think about it, Andy Sachs always be a puzzle for her. It's confusing, but surely not unwelcome.


	5. Chapter 5

Patience Series

Chapter 005. The surprise 'She' finds.

The first thing she could sense was there is someone else with her and she is not in her room. Yet somewhere in the back of her mind, she recognizes this strange room. Strangely, she not yet opens her eyes. Breathing in and out, Andy is working to bring back her sense, for some reason her mind keeps unfocused. There is strange numbness of her body that she cannot explain. Lastly, she cannot feel a thing of her right hand.

Puzzled. Bit by bit Andy comes to her sense, her vision blurs she can't see much sans many things in front of her are white, black and more white stuffs. Moreover, as the colors returning she slowly could make out a purple… something. Inhaling deeply, Andy closed her eyes stopping a whimper to escape, her left ribs hurts, throbbing painfully. Holding her breath until the ache somewhat easing Andy exhale from her lips in a quiet sigh. The smell of disinfectant, the smell she could only associate it with a hospital invade her nostril. Now she know why she felt she know this room, even not specifically the room she is in.

She spent two weeks inside the hospital after unfortunate accident that involving her ex-friend Lily and a car back in Ohio before she went to the Northwestern in some party. Odd. How Andy could be so clumsy when it comes to 'high-heels' and 'on her own feet' in same sentences that made her prone to get an accident. Even so her ex-friend, Lily was the one who drove her first car borrowed from her uncle, to a tree, when even its night, the road was clear, not intoxicated, no children, no pets, nothing. She should have known how her former best friend could be a back-stabber since that incident.

Andy had kicked the door to get out of the car, swaying and staggering to round the car, get to her friend, pulling her out from behind the wheel, and lay her unconscious body down on the ground before get inside to reach to her phone to dial 911, she had no strength left and collapse on the driver-seat. That was the truth. Was.

To protect herself not to involve with the officers Lily who awake first before Andy sold a different story. The one who drove the car was not her especially after the hospital took a blood-example that in her blood they found high evidence she had consumed weed, from a homemade-baked brownies she consumed with the other girls in the party without Andy knowing. Andy never eats brownies that night. She eats muffins that baked by -back then- her boyfriend Nate and, to respect him she only eats those muffins. Even the taste was questionable; she was sure as hell he didn't mix any weeds in it. However, Andy did drink a couple of bottles of beers. Her plan to go to the Northwestern nearly canceled thanks to that incident. Everyone believes Lily's story, not hers. Because originally, who drove the car to the party place was Andy, but not for the drive home. She becomes an embarrassment for the family and ever since then, her family and Andy grew distant.

Sighing, Andy keep her task to breathe in and out, gradually she is adapting with the pains and become bearable. For the second time she open her eyes her vision becomes clearer. She is able to look around and make sure she did was inside a hospital room.

Andy slowly feels confused, hospital room he occupied clearly only for the rich. A cub reporter working in a small publisher like the Daily Mirror like her clearly unable to pay the cost for this room type, then why did she get this kind of room?

Confused, Andy tried to remember while looking around and suddenly stop moving. Her eyes fixed on someone who is asleep in her hands folded on the edge of the bed. Short hair is as silvery-white like snow, the smell of a perfume she recognized quickly as Channel number five which make her incapable to stem the want, to not breathing the fragrance of her perfume in her eyes flutter shut with a rich floral. She knew instantly who is was asleep beside the hospital bed, which she tenanted.

"Miranda." Andy see her, Miranda, the Miranda Priestly and Andy is fascinated with the idea of that she is here, inside the hospital room and seemed to fall asleep during watching her. Andy understands immediately who can put her into this expensive hospital room. Miranda. Of course, Miranda, only her able to do so and only people as Miranda could afford this kind of room.

However, for what? In this case, for whom? For Andy? A former employee who left her boss at the most important time in her career seven months ago in Paris? 'And Miranda nicknamed is the Ice Queen,' thought Andy. She looked down at her body, surprised to find she got her right hand in a sling. 'Miranda. An expensive hospital room. In addition, my hand is in a sling. What the hell is going on here?' Her eyebrows furrowed, confused of the situation that she does not understand and she felt more surprised when she felt a tremendous headache. It made her sick, she felt like throwing up. She stops the nausea by swallowing her saliva and hope it was able to stop the urge to vomit, just to feel that desire intensified. Were choked by her own spits, Andy coughed several times, her coughing sounds Miranda awaken from was asleep due to exhaustion.

Miranda blue eyes widened open, surprised to see her patient was awake, flushed realizing she had fallen asleep and now worry as Andy continued to cough. "Calm down, take a deep breath while I call doctor," instructed Miranda reaching for a small button on the side of the bed and pressed it several times.

"Yes. Miranda." Andy said coughing, it seems, seven months of leaving her old job does not change the habits formed from her previous job as Miranda's assistant. The response was surprising Miranda, she pay attention to Andy for a while before a small smile appeared on her lips. "That's all." This time there was a triumphal grin on Miranda's lips, she too laughed a little because of Andy's face flushed, embarrassed.

(-**-)

Now she able to remember what took place that landed her inside the hospital VVIP's room. Andy remembers she had just completed an interview with someone for an article she was working on. She got a new message in the mobile phone, as she read the message Andy did not realize she was crossing the street. She did not see a motorcycle sped towards her, she remembered there were some people who shouted, she looked over too late and soon her world went dark. Although she was unable to allege what made her stunned, or in this case, spellbound by the content of the message she received on her cell phone in that very moment.

How could Andy be able to say she actually blown away by the pictures of Miranda and not an approximately one hundred sixty-five pounds of steels that could speed up to 150 miles/hour? That it was her Ex-boss. The suspiciously one of the millionaires in the entire nation and the Fashion prima donna, is influence taking root up and down and to the all sides of the publishing world? Where Andy need to digging around on the bottom of the ladder? The one who sits on one of the couches in the room she paid for Andy? A person who watches with meticulous look and critical eyes that able to know all huger-mugger that even Andy suspecting kept confidential by the Uncle Sam.

Okay, she hyperbolizing on that last part, but Andy would not be surprised in the slightest if Miranda got a privy to the darkest clandestine of a politico who does 'this' or someone doing 'that' in every part of the New York City, without moving a single inch out of the sofa she now occupied.

Fortunately, the doctor just shaking his head, and the police who came in for questioning her not alleges much about her carelessness except kept going and asking if she could provide an overview about the motorbike that hit her. More luck to her side that Andy crossed in the correct place and the traffic lights for pedestrians already turn green.

So, that is that.

And yet.

After they all left Andy in her room, she gulp, felt Miranda looking at her sharply. "Miranda." She said in a barely audible voice. "Thank you."

A fair eyebrow arched up haughtily, "For what, Andréa?" came the cryptic question.

"For everything."

Miranda pursed her lips, said nothing merely give a jerky nod of her head. There is a silent inside the room, not too thick likewise not that comfortable. "You should sleep, Andréa." Miranda articulated from her spot across the room, still eying her cryptically.

Andy cannot say no. She could not deny her. She is tired. The painkillers doing work for the wounds, set in once again, and with one last smile, she offered a genuine "thank you Miranda, for everything and I meant it." The last thing she listened prior to the drug landed her into the Morpheus's hands for the second time, was Miranda, in a voice she never heard before, said: "I know Andréa. I know."

Author Notes:

If someone likes to be my beta, please send me a PM or drop a review. Thank you


	6. Chapter 6

**Patience 006.**

**Author Notes:** Sorry for the short chapter. Life kicked me down to the bottom since a half year ago, apparently, Life too want to tell me that wasn't the real bottom and let me keep falling down… and not sure when I will stop. Anyways, off with the depressing matter of my life, but it will give a significant amount of effect to this chapter. Hopefully, it will not continue for long. But I will keep posting as I hate to left everything in the middle, it just be a short-chapter and… well, rather depressing.

Special thanks for my two betas: E.A. Phoenix (Liz) & lotty-anna (L.W)

Andy left the hospital a week later with a dislocated shoulder and fractures to her hand. They were small, but each time she tried to move her fingers it hurt like a bitch. Luckily, she still had use of her left hand, which allowed her to type – even if she couldn't write – and interviews to be conducted with the use of a recorder. She had already talked to her boss, Greg, who was kind enough let her continue doing her job despite her limitations.

The real problem was the accident had destroyed her phone, seriously reducing her effectiveness while out of the office. So, on top of rent and her prescriptions, she now had to replace her cellphone as well. The only thing keeping her from falling too far into the red this month was that all her hospital expenses had been paid for by Miranda.

Seated on her worn-out couch Andy released a tired sigh. Speaking of her former boss, Andy wasn't sure what to think about this seemingly altruistic gesture. She was positive Miranda was unaware of her feelings towards the older woman and would never return them. Why then, was she so kind to someone who had betrayed her?

_Miranda… _

The Editor had been gone by the time Andy had woken up the second time. She never had come back again after her visit and only Nigel had made the effort to come and see how she was doing. Andy didn't mind… much, but it still hurt. A small part of her had wished Miranda would walk back through the door of her hospital room wearing her expensive clothes and surrounded by her equally expensive perfume, acting as if she owned the entire hospital just like she always did at Runway. Somehow, that was not something too difficult for Andy to imagine.

Bringing a mug of now lukewarm tea to her lips, Andy took a small sip. She had just finished showering and had ordered Chinese takeout for dinner. Looking at the clock on the shelf next to her television, Andy realized she should be working on her interview; however, she could not shake herself out of the continuous daydream about her former boss.

Nigel was hopeless. After the accident, he began acting like she was made of glass – fragile – and at the slightest amount of pressure she would suddenly shatter. He felt guilty, obviously.

While not having her phone had given her a less stressful week, Andy missed the rather playful and teasing texts from her loyal friend. She would rather die than admit it, but she did feel rather lonely. No texts meant there was no supply of motivation or fuel for her over active imagination.

She missed him. She missed their marathon movies nights. She missed him bursting into her apartment with beer and wine and pizza; just to gossip like a giddy schoolgirl.

Yet…

Who she missed the most was Miranda.

She hadn't seen her in the flesh for far too long and then suddenly she was waking up with the silver-haired beauty seated next to her bed, watching her – guarding her. Then, sadly, as quickly as she had arrived back in Andy's life she had disappeared.

Andy sighed mournfully. She was so obviously head over heels in love with the older woman. During her tenure at Runway, Andy had been able to ignore her feelings, thinking that she was merely in a state of hero-worship, that it was only a minor crush and would go away in time. It was a certainty she'd clung to after Paris, believing that everything would fade with the older woman's absence.

Nigel was the one who had poked and prodded at the forgotten feelings – feelings she had denied nearly unconsciously – and now the dam was broken. Acknowledging the truth had been easy-_ish_, now she just needed to accept that she was in love, like a lovesick puppy. The sensation was not good. No, how could unrequited love ever be a positive thing? It was like getting bitch-slapped in the face.

Depression hung heavily over her head and this feeling rested badly with Andy.

But who ever felt happy when they were depressed really?

Logically, Andy knew there were several factors that worked against them as a couple – disparate career levels, socio-economic status, and personal history among a few.

Age and gender, however, were never an issue. A shocking fact she now understood with help from Nigel. He'd helped her understand that she'd had a few female crushes before, but she had never looked too deeply into it or even dared to explore such feelings. Unlike some of her friends back in high school or college who had always gushed their various admirations for the same sex, stating 'that girl is so cool' or ' that girl is so sexy'.

"Miranda is a woman, damn it," Andy growled in frustration. But her statement was correct, Miranda Priestly WAS a woman, a lady at that – not some girl with raging hormones or plain curiosity that would lead to nothing more than a mere experiment.

Miranda was, however, in possession of two failed marriages and twin red-headed daughters with a mischievous streak a mile wide. Andy knew those girls were the center of the older woman's universe and that she doted on them constantly, but all that attention still could not dissolve the loneliness they felt when their mother was not around. Andy couldn't help but have a soft spot for all three priestly women.

Then there was that fact that Miranda Priestly was _the _Fashion Queen – the sole deciding voice of taste and style. She dominated and ran Runway with extreme strength and power, making Runway her palace, her office chair her throne, and ordering and controlling her minions like a nineteenth century monarch.

Andy Sachs? She was just a lowly cub reporter at the Mirror. Her position was laughable compared to the other writers and editors at her newspaper. How could she possibly ever be on the same scale as Miranda Priestly and Runway?

Miranda Priestly lived in an up-scale area of East New York, ten blocks from Central Park, supporting herself and her two children with a steady income ranging around six to seven figures a month. She had already been involved in the publishing industry for around a quarter of a century and currently held the title of Editor-in-chief, Queen of the fashion world.

The Cub-Reporter? Even when she was tasting of the same pool, standing in the same field as the fashion maven, Andy stood far too close to the edge of the world. While Miranda, one of the key players in the industry, had an exclusive place, right in the middle.

So what could Andy possibly have to entice the woman?

Miranda saw models every single day – all of whom possessed bodies men drooled over and women envied and killed themselves trying to obtain. Even with these models literally parading around with the tiniest amount of material covering their bodies or sometimes none on at all – leaving nothing to the imagination – Miranda never blinked an eye at them. There was no inappropriate ogling of naked flesh and no secretly thrown glances of appreciation. So if the most attractive women in the world couldn't turn the editor's head, why would Miranda ever look twice at Andy?

So, body was off the list.

Beauty?

Andy was aware that her looks were slightly above average – she'd often received envied and jealous looks from other girls in college and now from the women she worked with at the paper. So her long, brown hair and big, doe-eyes were no longer something she detested, but now made her feel unique and slightly special.

Yet she was plain in comparison if she – not that she would – dared to compare herself to those models. It really was like comparing a simple piece of coal to a precious diamond.

Position?

She has absolutely no position in her job she could be proud of… yet.

Money?

_Ha!_ That wasn't even an option.

Creating a mental list had left Andy feeling even more depressed. Releasing a tired groan, Andy lowered her aching body further down on the couch. She placed her ankles on top of the armrest and lay her head down on a faded cushion. If she could just get some rest, maybe she could find a better quality about herself that would not lead her further into depression.

Settling deeper into her couch, Andy couldn't help but hope to find something within herself that would attract the older woman back into her life and keep her there. As she closed her eyes, Andy's brain registered that her medication was doing its job effectively and was now lulling her into a drug-induced sleep, away from her depressive thoughts. Even as she slipped into the land of slumber, she couldn't help but wonder when the next spell of depression would take its toll on her mind.


End file.
